Dead With A Reason
by Fire Emblem Roy Supporter
Summary: Marth relays his life at his father's hands and what happened afterwards. WARNING: not meant to make you happy. Oneshot


A/N: I wrote this because I was bored. It just came into my mind, so I wrote it down, and BAM! It's here.

Please enjoy, and please review!

Dead With A Reason

I was dead.

I knew it to be true, because I was the one that made it so. I had driven my sword straight through my heart, no fear within me. I had no fear, because what was there to fear? My life had been hell since I entered the world all thos years ago. This is a sad history that can't be changed.

I had been born into a royal family, and my mother was proud to call me her own prince. My sister was beside herself, happy to have a younger sibling. The only one not pleased was my father, and I did not know why.

I spent my early years being trained by my father to be a king, being loved by my mother, and playing games with my sister. I was constantly punished by my father, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never please him.

One day, I was seized from my sister's grasp as we played together, slapped across the face, and thrown into a room I did not recognize. They called it a cell, one made specifically for me. As the door slammed shut, I heard my mother, screaming and calling my name, and my big sister, asking a maid what happened to me. But what I heard even louder was the fierce yells of my father. I called for her, for Elisse, but no one came. I was alone, and my mother's cries and my sister's voice were gone.

In the next few years, I was denied any physical contact, any care of any type. I grew up, not knowing what happened to my sister and mother, and of the world outside the accursed cell. Those frequent time when my father came to see me were filled with pain. He found pleasure in torturing his one and only son, frequently calling me "weak" and "undesirable and unfit to ever become a king". By the end of these sessions, I was always found on the floor, consciousness far from my reach.

A lucky break came when I turned sixteen. One day, I was allowed out of my cell, and thrown outside to explore on my own. I walked round, admiring the blue skies and bright sunshine. It was late spring, I was sure of it. I was unsure of what to do. But that's when I came upon the small cemetery. It was hidden behind the castle, out of the public eye. I examined the two small markers, and was shocked to see what they read.

Ellaina Lowell- Death by mysterious Murder

Elisse Lowell- Death by mysterious death.

I stared in horror. How could this be so? My mother's marker read that her death had been eight years previous. Around the same … around the time I was imprisoned. My sister's marker read that her death had been two years previous.

I began to tremble, anger welling inside of me. In that instant, I knew. I knew it had been my father who had killed them, stained his hands with their blood. Before I could realize what was happening, I held in my hands a sword of magnificence. It's hilt shone as bright as the stars themselves, the blade shone, pristine. Perfection in its absolute greatest.

Wielding this magnificent blade, and with no thought of sanity in mind, I charged through the castle, in search of my father. I burst into his study, ignoring the frightened stares I received from the maids. I began to shout, brandishing the sword wildly in my fury. My father leapt forward, striking me across the face, sending me to the floor. I leapt to my feet, as graceful as ever I had been. He stared at me in wonder, and then his eyes registered what I held. His mouth fell open in shock, and spit came flying as he began to yell louder than ever. He claimed me a sinner, of some unholy form, for in my hands, I held the legendary Falchion, the Blade of Light, the very sword used by my ancestors.

He ordered soldiers to capture me, wrenching the sword from my unwilling hands. I was thrown back in my cell, and left there. But not for long.

A few weeks later, when I had finished mourning the deaths of my sister and mother, my father approached my cell. He had a compromise. If I were willing to serve him and be a good apprentice, I would be allowed to touch the sword. I agreed, but only because a plan had formed in those few weeks of my mourning.

A year had passed ever since our agreement, and in that year, I grew stronger, swifter, and I learned a great deal about my father's weaknesses, however hard he tried to conceal them. My father still did not approve of me, but who cared? I was engaged to the most wonderful of girls, Caeda. We had met in the market, and had been seeing each other for the weeks to follow. She was a marble of perfection, beauty in its purest form.

When my father learned of the engagement, he denied me the right to marry. I ignored him, but that was one of the worst mistakes of my life. He sent them after her. She was murdered, and I couldn't even be there to protect her. She died a painful death, a death brought on by me, for denying my father.

I slipped into a state of depression, but anger soon filled it. Why was it that every time I felt a sense of happiness in someone or something, my father ruined it? I was gald he denied me as his son in public, calling me his nephew. Since no one had seen me for eight years, I could pass. But, before I could be happy every again, blood had to be spilled.

It was on May 5, the anniversary of my imprisonment and my mother's death, that I murdered my father. He fought a good fight, but I had the upper hand. He underestimated ,e. the fool. I left a note by his body, a note that put everything in its rightful place. I explained the deaths of Caeda, my mother, and Ellisse. I told of my treatment, and how unfit a father he had been. Afterwards, I leapt onto my horse, dug my heels into her flanks, and sent myself into the woods. I would be persued, I knew I would.

I passed my days in the woods trying to calm my aching heart. I missed them all, my mother, my Elisse, and my dear Caeda. They all died, because of me, and I couldn't be there to protect them. When the huntsmen finally found me, I killed them all. They stood no chance with me wielding Falchion. They died before they could draw their blades. They died, and I knew no one would venture far enough into the woods to find them.

I left my local campsite, riding fast and hard to a location unknown. I rode like this for several days, with no end, before I fell from my horse, weak and unable to stand. My horse was tired, I knew it. She set off running for a nearby stream, and I let her. What was the use of having her around?

That's when I knew.

That's when I knew I wouldn't make it alive out here in the world. I had been deprived of everything I loved for too long, denied everything I loved and most wanted, and looked down upon as filth. With shaking hands, I drew Falchion, staring at its magnificence. With no fear in my heart, and tears of pain, pain for my loved ones, in my eyes, I stabbed the sword through my chest. I felt no pain.

Let it be known that I was never found. My horse rode to safety and was cared for by a farmer. I never saw my father in the Realms of Heaven, never saw his face again. Let it also be known that my family died at my father's hand. Never will they walk the earth because of that bastard, never breathe and laugh and love, and most of all, never to be held by loved ones. But I am happy, I am with them, and I will always have them. They sit beside me now, I, hand in hand with my beloved, as I stare down at the newest generation of heroes. A young girl with brown hair, wielding a fierce dagger in hand, tracking her kill. I smile, and I'm happy.

I'm happy.

A/N: I hoped you liked it. Review, please? By the way, that last part was a glimpse of one of my very own OCs. I don't know when you will ever see her. Just, be happy.

Be happy.

I'm happy.

-Marth Alton Lowell


End file.
